


photo op

by rockruff



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Its just smut, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, nayeon has a camera, sana has a collar...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 13:05:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16661623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockruff/pseuds/rockruff
Summary: The photographer in Nayeon is Sana's second best friend, the first best being Nayeon herself. Nayeon, her unnie, her god damn beautiful unnie. The one who's wearing the shortest skirt.





	photo op

A shutter, a flash.

Eyes looking at her through lenses, mechanical lenses, through complete and idiotic adoration. A flash and a glimpse at something they think they know.

A smile and a story for them to tell: _She was so gorgeous. She smiled right at me._ (No, she didn't). _She's even better in person._ (No, she isn't.)

Eyes through lenses, mechanic or organic, but fake all the same.

Sana stands there, smiles, face layered like a cream birthday cake. Special occasion. Eyeline drawn in black, eyelids powdered in the night sky and even darker. Hair messy, so damn messy but they still think it's perfect. It's a look, they say. They, her fashion stylist, the people looking at her, her own band mates. It's not her, but it's a look.

_Use your eyes, honey. Speak with your eyes._

Sana's just tired of it.

Tired of being someone else, for someone else.

Tired of giving and giving every ounce of artificiality to the point of wondering if it's even fake anymore.

 

–

 

It's a Saturday when it happens. A Saturday, she remembers that.

Because it's exactly one week before her birthday. Her big day to celebrate getting older, or living, still being alive, it doesn't matter which.

It's weird because, she's been fucking Nayeon for about two months. How it happened was a slip of the tongue (quite literally) and instant regret. Then regret at regretting. Then more tongue.

But the weird thing is, is that Nayeon's never shown any indication that she had been dissecting every inch of Sana's entire being for God knows how long. That she had been discovering things that even Sana didn't really know about herself in clarity.

So when Sana is presented with a flat little box, all prettied up with a dark red ribbon with embroidered gold lining, and inside is a collar, she's surprised.

Surprised because this is exactly what she's always wanted, she realises, and Nayeon is the best thing that's ever happened to her and _thank you._

It's not even a role.

Not an act. The excitement can't change the way she acts. The way her heartbeat gets a little faster. The way her blush tinges the tops of her cheeks, eyes glistening all big and nervous. Nervousness mixed with excitement, excitement mixed with confusion.

Because how did Nayeon know exactly, that Sana has been craving to be melted into nothing and to get given, given, given everything that she believes she deserves.

“Move your hair, beautiful,” Nayeon says.

Nayeon says that to her bare face, devoid of everything. _Thank you._

Sana moves her hair, doesn't realise her hand had been shaking, just a little. She moves it and her fingers brush across her neck as she does so, feeling how warm she's gotten. How it takes mere seconds of Nayeon's soothing voice and the prospect of acting out fantasies she never realised she had to get Sana going already.

Nayeon is just an angel.

She's careful as she pulls the leather around Sana's neck. Cold against her warm skin. The colour is velvet blue, royal. Nayeon says how pretty it looks, how it contrasts against Sana's hair so nicely. Sana's hair is dusty brown, a colour that Nayeon keeps complimenting her about. So naturally, Sana likes it too.

The silver metal tag sits between Sana's collarbones. Nayeon's fingers touch over it, takes the tag between her fingers and focuses on the engraved name for a moment. The name, which is not Sana's own. It's Nayeon's name. Sana is wearing a collar with Nayeon's name on it because everything Sana is, belongs to Nayeon.

Sana's never felt more complete.

“You're so gorgeous,” Nayeon says, all sorts of love and lust and power and generosity in her eyes. “Now take off your shirt.”

She does. Leaves her chest exposed, she wasn't wearing a bra. Not when she knew Nayeon and her had the dorm to themselves. Not this Saturday, a week before her birthday, already given the best gift in the form of a strike through her needy, greedy heart.

So Sana's there, kneeling on the bed in nothing but some thin shorts and a collar, and Nayeon starts rummaging around her bag for something. Sana knows the rules, sit quiet, don't move. When Nayeon's in one of these moods: don't talk. Does it still apply when Sana's tagged like a dog and needing more than ever the taste of Nayeon's bananas foster lip-gloss all over her tongue?

“Unnie,” Sana breathes.

And Nayeon grabs whatever she was looking for from her bag the moment Sana says it, looks up at her with eyes that say: don't do that again.

Sana melts.

Then Nayeon begins to crawl over to her on the bed, and by the way, Nayeon, her unnie, her god damn beautiful unnie who always takes care of her, she's wearing the shortest skirt. With the tightest black socks, up over the knees. It doesn't matter what else she's wearing because Sana can't look away from her legs and her panty-clad ass that's just about visible whenever Nayeon turns around.

Sana's still thinking about Nayeon's perfect ass and creamy thighs when she hears the click of metal and looks down to see a leash attached to her collar. Leather again, a leather leash in the same royal blue as her collar, where did she even get this?

And then Nayeon tugs hard on it.

“Baby, you are just too gorgeous.”

Sana melts again. Feels the urge to clench her thighs together because there's a heat there that's only growing more each second. A little fire that settles beneath the skin all over her body and threatens to grow wild the next time Nayeon so much as talks.

Sana leans forward, keeps her voice box tidily on mute but leans forward, and hopes to god that Nayeon gives in.

She does.

It's like kissing the edge of a hot coffee cup, Sana thinks. It burns and stings but you just keep going because you want what's inside and waiting is for losers. Collar, leash, sitting all obedient and pretty, all that means nothing when Sana gets her taste. Any sense of poise she'd had at this point is gone the moment Nayeon's ice cream lip-gloss touches Sana's lips.

The thing is, a dog will be well-behaved up until you give him what he wants. Then, it's all wolfing down and begging for more.

Sana's still not fully trained.

Her tongue dips out to catch Nayeon's lips, ice cream flavoured lips, bananas foster, Sana's favourite. Then her teeth, all greedy and wanting more tug against Nayeon's bottom lip. Loves the way it feels between her teeth, all plump and delicate, and she bites down a little. Kisses Nayeon over and over and her mind disappears in the way that Nayeon kisses her back. No matter how eager and colourful Sana gets, Nayeon is always in control. Sana knows that. That even when Sana urges Nayeon's mouth open to taste her tongue, it's only because Nayeon lets her. Because Nayeon is _always_ in control.

Of her.

So when Sana forgets her place and reaches her hands out to touch at those creamy thighs, fingers teasing under Nayeon's skirt, Sana feels the alarming pull right around her neck, breaking her away.

Sana looks at the disappointment in Nayeon's eyes, ignores the amused half-smile on Nayeon's lips (she has a role to play but even Nayeon's not the best actor), and then lets her gaze fall down to the leash wrapped around Nayeon's hand.

“I'll let you off for that one because it's pretty cute,” Nayeon says, voice low but as clear as day in Sana's ears. “Just remember, though,” she says. “You're my _good_ girl.”

And Sana nods. Small little nods until Nayeon's eyes turn bright again, and she reaches out to cup Sana's face with the hand that's still ravelled up in a royal blue leash.

She is, _she is,_ she is a good girl. She slips up sometimes—she's got a lot to learn. But this is exactly who she is and she's never felt more alive.

Nayeon then commands her to take her shorts off. Shorts atop bare skin because there's no point for underwear when she knows she's getting fucked tonight and _I can't believe you_ , Nayeon grins, lies, because she definitely does believe it. The way the older girl takes in how Sana's all ready and wet and glistening for her, just for her, makes Sana even wetter.

Pathetic, really.

She loves it.

Loves being laid out bare with nothing to hide and everything to give (and take, take, take).

“Hands.”

Sana gives Nayeon her hands. Nayeon brings her wrists together and wraps the end of the leash around them, tying them up crudely. There's still a big leather strip that hangs from her collar to her tied hands, and Nayeon yanks it a bit, forcing her forward as she pecks Sana on the lips.

She's being pushed down now, against the bed, the soft pillows and blanket all plush against her bare skin. The soft hands of Nayeon against her bare skin. The soft pads of Nayeon's fingertips with touches feather-light against the flat expanse of her stomach. Sana lifts her hands above her head, rests them on the pillow, keeps them out of the way, they're useless now. Useless but still itching to touch Nayeon's skin, her hair, her creamy thighs and sexy ass.

Everything is making her mind float as her eyelids flutter shut until Nayeon's fingers are between her legs and playing curious.

She's so wet. Knows that, knew it. Felt it from the way Nayeon looked at her. But didn't know it was this bad until she feels how Nayeon's fingers glide so seamlessly through her.

Her eyes scrunch together, tighter, as she tries her damned hardest not to beg. Beg for Nayeon, beg for bliss, beg for anything, beg for her dignity back (she didn't want that back).

There's a mouth on her breast, then, breath so hot and turning her sensitive. It stays there for a moment, teasing and Sana's eyes are still scrunched shut, before she feels Nayeon's lips around her nipple. Feels her lick, suck, drive Sana crazy. Feels her fingers, her unnie's soft and rough and perfect and messy fingers still running through her slit, doing nothing but driving Sana crazy.

It's when Nayeon pulls her mouth back a bit to blow against Sana's nipple, that Sana arches her chest up and lets out a whine. Rolls her hips against Nayeon's fingers, wants more but she's a good girl—promises she's a good girl, so _please_.

Nayeon takes that as cue for permission.

“Tell me what you want,” Nayeon says. “You're so pretty like this.”

Nayeon's teeth graze against Sana's sensitive nipple, and Nayeon's free hand's gone up to start tweaking and teasing the other. Squeezing at Sana's breast, grabbing and tainting and taking.

“I want you,” Sana says. “ _Just—_ ” She moans, Nayeon's hands are becoming rougher. “Take from me.”

Sana's such a giver.

Some things never change.

Nayeon slips her fingers inside.

Her head comes back against the pillows, digs deep, a stupid hazy half-smile on her lips as Nayeon starts to fuck her with her fingers. Thumbs at her clit as she fucks Sana hard, Sana loves it hard, and keeps her wet mouth against Sana's chest. Kissing her, between her breasts, below her collarbones, then along her collarbones. Fucks Sana as Sana's left whimpering like a dog in that royal blue collar.

“Beg for me,” Nayeon tells her.

“ _Nayeon—_ ” Sana whines as Nayeon's teeth bite pretty, dirty marks into her chest. “ _Please._ ”

It had to be Nayeon. _Has_ to be.

Has to because the girl is so revoltingly shameless that Sana could never feel so dirty and worshipped at the same time with anyone else.

Nayeon's the worst, the best.

The best because her fingers are giving Sana bliss upon bliss upon shame mixed with _but really I don't care anymore, I just want to get off._ The best because Sana, laid all bare and devoid of anything is still exactly what Nayeon wants. Because Nayeon knows Sana, more than Sana even knows herself.

And the worst because Nayeon is filthy.

In control, she tries to be. But there's no way to hide the lust in her eyes, the wetness between her legs and the way she's just so infatuated with every inch of Sana's body. Sana laying there all pretty and waiting and needing and how it turns Nayeon on a one-track mind—it's reflected in Nayeon's eyes when Sana looks at her. That even when she's getting Sana off, she's about to come herself. Probably. Sana thinks. It's happened more than twice.

Even when Nayeon's the worst, Sana still thinks she's the best.

It's subtle, but Nayeon's grinding against Sana's thigh. Sana deems it subtle because when Nayeon usually does this—Nayeon does this a lot—it's definitely not so contained. Sana's tied hands have little imprints of her fingernails in the palms now. Sana wants to grab Nayeon's ass and pull her down harder against her thigh.

She can't, though. So she focuses on how Nayeon's still nipping on the skin of Sana's collarbone, fingers still working her but not fast enough.

“Unnie,” Sana calls out, it's soft. Soft not because she wants to but because she's so focused on other parts of her body that she almost forgets how to talk. “ _Nayeon-unnie,_ ” she moans.

Had something to say, something to request, forgot words.

But Nayeon knows her so well. _Thank you._

Nayeon's still grinding against Sana's leg, getting off because she's so shameless like that, and Sana loves it. Nayeon picks up the pace of her fingers, messy but perfect, and gives Sana exactly what she wants. Bites down hard against her collarbone, leaves a mark—Sana hopes she leaves a mark. Licks at the skin and bites again, over and over, and it hurts. Hurts so good because every touch Nayeon plants on Sana's skin is like fire and smoke stealing her breath.

“Beg,” Nayeon says. “Beg, you damn pretty dog.”

“Please,” Sana breathes out, almost loses her breath entirely at the way Nayeon talks to her. It's so automatic. “I'm so close, please, please _please..._ ”

She is so close. Her wrists start trying to pull against their restraints, needing something to dig her hands into: the bed sheets, Nayeon's back, Nayeon's ass. Anything, something. Preferably Nayeon's ass.

She doesn't know when it happened but Nayeon's tongue is on her clit. When Nayeon got between her legs she doesn't know, but her fingers are pumping inside her fast, deep, everything she needs, and Nayeon's tongue is lapping at her clit—she's going to fucking come.

Nayeon, Nayeon, Nayeon, Sana's sure she's saying her name out loud except she's not because all that's escaping her throat are moans and whimpers. It's all in her head, the sound of Nayeon's name, Nayeon's face, Nayeon's fingers and Nayeon's everything.

She comes with Nayeon's tongue against her clit and her bound hands pushing hard against Nayeon's head, forcing her further between her legs.

It leaves her twitching. Body limp but occasionally twitching. Nayeon's licking her clean, and she's so sensitive it almost feels like she's about to come all over again. Her lips are then met with Nayeon's fingers, Sana's wetness on Nayeon's fingers, meeting Sana's tongue. The taste of herself is something she loves, she isn't afraid to admit that, but she loves it because Nayeon makes her taste it. And maybe it's just that she loves everything Nayeon makes her do, because she knows this is who she really is, the real Sana.

Sana thinks she's okay with being like this. Being herself. Being—

“Such a good slut,” Nayeon coos, adoration gleaming in those dark eyes.

Sana feels her chest beam bright with butterflies and little sparks of electric and all that dumb-assed fluffy shit. Nayeon makes her feel this way a lot.

Then Nayeon pulls back, sits up on her knees and looks down at Sana just sinking down into the bed sheets. Looks down at Sana and drinks in the entirety of her body and Sana loves it. Sees the way Nayeon's eyes disconnect from hers to start trailing all over her body, her mind somewhere else. Somewhere Sana can only guess. Nayeon looks so pretty when she's eye-fucking Sana.

“Let me take the shots now,” Nayeon says, breaking out of her reverie and meeting Sana's eyes again. It's soft. It's almost a request but it's not, not really. “My freshly-fucked pretty girl,” she says.

Nayeon does this a lot. Sana knows exactly what she's doing. Building up all that lust and desire until she can't take it anymore—fucks Sana and keeps Sana's touch away from herself so it keeps her hanging on the edge. Says it feels better that way. When she finally comes. It's kind of admirable, actually.

Except it's not Sana's style at all.

She's the opposite, really. Wanting things fast and right there, right now.

Her body's still spent. Won't be for long, she knows that. She still hasn't touched Nayeon yet, needs to. What's an early birthday gift without tearing open the decorative paper?

A shutter and a flash.

Eyes through a mechanical lens, and Nayeon's voice telling her, “look at me, baby.”

She does. Looks right at Nayeon, then through the lens—the one she's sure Nayeon has all zoomed in. She looks without any effort, her eyes half-lidded, face all pink and flushed _she's sure_. And legs spread.

Just for Nayeon.

She notices the way Nayeon swallows, all thick.

Another flash. And another.

“You're so gorgeous,” Nayeon says. “To me, my whole world? That's you,” she says, and Sana can't help the grin that spreads on her lips, the way her heart skips and then threatens to eat her whole.

Another flash.

The camera's pulled away from Nayeon's face, face that's layered in modest makeup but probably lacking the ice cream lip-gloss now. Nayeon's wearing makeup because she wants to look good ( _“you can't look any better,”_ Sana'd say, touching Nayeon's pretty bare face) and Sana's not wearing any makeup because Nayeon thinks she looks good. Like that. More than good. Sana's so grateful to Nayeon.

It sits on the table, the camera does, as Nayeon makes her way back to Sana on the bed. Nayeon walking back over to Sana in that short little skirt and those black knee-high socks with a white-button up shirt (Sana notices it now). It's enough to make Sana wet all over again.

Nayeon unties her hands, leaves the leash on though because she loves to pull at it, remind Sana of her place. Her place right inside Nayeon's hands and heart. Don't forget heart.

Nayeon places a kiss atop Sana's forehead and cups her cheek, brushing her thumb against Sana's blush. And then she pulls back. Looks down at Sana for a moment but pulls back and returns to her camera. Eye through the viewfinder once more, right at Sana, before saying, “give me Minatozaki Sana.”

It's the first time Nayeon has ever said her name during a time like this. It's weird. Somewhat alarming. She's so used to being named a thousand different names— _baby, gorgeous, pretty girl, good girl, bad girl, slut_ —any name but her own. It just takes her a moment to let it all soak in.

But it does.

And then she gives her Minatozaki Sana.

Her eyes, all half-lidded, stay focused on the camera. Brings her hand to her stomach and dips her fingers lower, lower until it reaches the wetness now gathered once more between her thighs.

A flash of the camera.

Sana, good girl Sana, she's there teasing herself because she wants to see what Nayeon sees and all of this is really more self-indulgent than anyone would think.

She brings her fingers to her entrance— _flash_. Freshly-fucked, Nayeon was right, she slips back in so easily— _flash_. Nayeon says she's an amateur but when she takes pictures of Sana she thinks she could pass as professional. Sana likes the compliment. _It's all about your subject,_ Nayeon would say, and Sana would argue it's the other way around. That it's the one who's taking the pictures that really counts.

The photographer in Nayeon is Sana's second best friend, the first best being Nayeon herself. Nayeon, her unnie, her god damn beautiful unnie. The one who's wearing the shortest skirt.

Sana's eyes stick to it.

And Nayeon's so filthy.

There, holding three thousand dollars worth of mechanical eyes in one hand, the other hand shoved inside her panties.

Flash.

So much for self-control, Nayeon is the worst.

Sana fucks herself slow. Slow because she wants it fast. Slow because Nayeon's watching her and really, Sana's such a giver.

It works, though. Because she sees the outline of Nayeon's busy hand inside her underwear, and Nayeon's other hand slips, just a bit, the camera turning all wonky as it snaps another shot. Sana's not sure how long this goes on for. But watching Nayeon touch herself as she watches Sana touch herself is somehow the best form of self-torture.

Then the camera's gone, Nayeon's fixing it on the tripod now. Hand out of her underwear. Sana's kind of sad about that. But she just sits back, lazily pumping her fingers inside of herself as she watches Nayeon set the scene through half-lidded eyes.

Nayeon's coming back to her then. Slips her panties off, soaked, before she gets on the bed, on Sana, brackets Sana's stomach with her thighs. She'd pulled Sana's fingers away from herself, just to place her hands on Nayeon's thighs. Sana's more than happy. _Thank you._

“You see what you do to me,” Nayeon says, and it's through a little growl. Cute. More hot than cute. She says this as she grinds down against Sana's stomach, leaves her wetness coating it and god, Sana's never felt more lucky.

“I can't decide whether you're good or bad anymore, baby,” Nayeon admits, fingers playing with the metal tag on Sana's collar. “All I know is you're mine.”

Sana feels her heart swell. Her hands on Nayeon's thighs rub along the smooth flesh, just touching, stroking, getting lost in how good they feel. And Nayeon's still grinding against Sana's belly, making a slick mess there and Sana loves it. It's not long before Sana reaches behind Nayeon, grabs at her ass, finally, and loses her mind.

Nayeon's still wearing her clothes, mind you, everything except her panties and it only serves to build the excitement between Sana's legs. The pleasure she didn't get to finish earlier because right now it's Nayeon's time to shine and of course, Sana will let her take it.

“The camera's watching, by the way,” Nayeon says through a gasp, grinding especially hard as Sana digs her fingers into Nayeon's perfect ass cheeks. Sana feels her heart skip. Digs her fingers deeper, pulls Nayeon down harder. “I'll make sure you watch it back and see exactly who you are,” Nayeon says.

She leans down a bit then, Nayeon does, abandoning the idea of the leash and instead hooks her fingers right through Sana's collar. So tight it almost threatens to choke her, and Nayeon yanks her forward by it. Brushes her lips against Sana's mouth as she says, “Now do what you do best.”

Nayeon moves to bracket Sana's head with her thighs. Those creamy thighs with legs still enveloped in black socks. Sana's mouth is watering, she's fine admitting that. Wastes no time leaning in, a long and languid lick through Nayeon's dripping folds. Nayeon's knees buckle in response.

For as much as Nayeon likes to talk, she's unusually quiet when Sana gets her off. Not like Sana, who's all breathy moans and needy whimpers because she just can't help it. But Nayeon. Nayeon's all eyes scrunched shut, brows furrowed and sharp uneven intakes of breath.

No no, don't get her wrong. This isn't a complaint, it's far from it. It's something fascinating and sexy, something that Sana finds herself thinking about when she's lost in fantasies without Nayeon there to take her.

Sana's hands find Nayeon's thighs again, resting there comfortably, occasionally stroking. Her tongue finds Nayeon's clit, circles it for a bit, then replaces that with open-mouthed kisses. Sana can't tell who's enjoying it more, all she knows is the taste of Nayeon is sweet and moreish and Nayeon had just let out a rare whimper.

“Is this good,” Sana asks, it's more of a whisper and it's kind of an accident. She never really speaks in these situations unless Nayeon asks her to. The words just slip out as her mind grows covered in haze as she continues to lap at Nayeon.

Nayeon lets out a little “ _mm”_ which Sana takes as a yes and feels her heart skipping once more.

She pulls Nayeon down further against her face, lets Nayeon grind against her mouth as Sana teases Nayeon's entrance. She pushes inside. Feels Nayeon's insides squeeze against the tongue in Sana's mouth that only wants to go deeper, deeper.

Fuck, Sana thinks. Fuck, she really is not good at self-control—not in the slightest. She pushes her tongue deep as it'll go into Nayeon as she brings a hand down between her own legs and starts rubbing at her clit.

When Sana crowned Nayeon as filthy, what she meant was, she's exactly the same.

To be honest though, it's probably love. Or maybe it really is just lust. But right now, Sana with her mind all cloudy and stupid, she thinks it's probably love. Idiotic adoration, she looks at Nayeon the way people with cameras and no clue look at her. Nayeon knows Sana, knows every inch of her, she's sure of it. But truthfully, Sana doesn't think she knows Nayeon at all.

Still, Sana's so infatuated with her.

She remembers the collar around her neck and why it's there. She's eager to please. Brings her tongue back to lick at Nayeon's folds, back up to that bundle of nerves, over and over, one hand still touching herself as pleasure rolls back into her body.

_Tell me I'm good,_ Sana wants to say. Doesn't say it. Wants to, though. Imagines she does it anyway. _Tell me who Sana is, I just need to know._

Sana looks up, just a bit, sees Nayeon playing with her own breasts and then Sana's fingers create a desperate rhythm between her legs. Flicks her tongue and laps at Nayeon until the girl's coming all pretty against her mouth. And Sana's so damn obsessed with everything she does, every way she looks. How Nayeon's free hand grips the headboard in front of her and uses Sana's mouth to light the trail of bliss that runs through her body. And Sana—she works her fingers harder and follows Nayeon soon after.

Nayeon's just so stupidly pretty.

Sana thinks this as Nayeon moves to lay next to her, flat on her back and eyes closed. Cheeks a touch of pink, rejecting to be hidden through foundation and concealer. Hair _not_ perfect.

Sana just looks at her for a short while. Waits for Nayeon to collect herself. Waits until Nayeon opens those lazy eyes and tilts her head toward Sana, Sana who's been looking at her with big brown puppy eyes ever since she came. Then Nayeon leans up on her arm, reaches her hand out to Sana's face, swipes her thumb across Sana's lips. And Nayeon's thumb dips into Sana's mouth, past her lips and teeth and Sana lets her tongue run along the underside of Nayeon's finger.

Nayeon's eyes are still stuck on Sana's own, still lazy but with a hint of gloss nobody can deny. Says, “you're such a good girl.” Says this as Sana's sucking gently on Nayeon's thumb.

And then Nayeon's replacing that with her mouth, kissing Sana and tasting herself on Sana's lips. And Sana's such a good girl but she still gets all teeth and bite when she kisses, _sorry._

Sana thinks it's probably love. The way how Nayeon can do just about anything and leave Sana with hearts in her eyes. The sense of home she gets when Nayeon buries her head into Sana's neck and wraps an arm around her. Thinks it's probably love because Sana is nudging Nayeon slightly, reminding her of the camera, and Nayeon just tells her she doesn't care.

“I want to stay right here,” Nayeon tells her.

And really, Sana's heart is in flames. _Thank you._

 

–

 

A shutter, a flash.

Eyes looking at her through lenses, mechanical lenses, through complete and idiotic adoration. A flash and a glimpse at something they think they know.

They don't know a thing.

 

**Author's Note:**

> hello spyro reignited came out so all i've been doing is toasting sheep and writing porn


End file.
